Defying Destiny
by Rosabell
Summary: Qui-Gon doomed Obi-Wan to suffering when he ordered him to train Anakin, but the Force recalls a figure from the past, a being that takes an interest in Obi-Wan's light and decides to change his future. History takes a different turn. LSF Exile mentor.
1. Meeting of Legends

Defying Destiny

1: Meeting of Legends

Rain pelted down like stones from the sky, almost slamming to the ground. Qui-Gon wiped at his face as the wind blew the water into his eyes. He could use the Force to keep them at bay, but at the moment doing so felt like more effort than simply tolerating the sting. Besides, this gave him an excuse to pause for a moment and think about his options.

He had chased a warlord to the planet two days ago and was able to establish a blockade in order to prevent the scoundrel from escaping. The Force confirmed the wretch was still here, though among the thick of other scumbags of the galaxy that were gathered on this miserable rock, it was difficult to pinpoint where. They were far from the Republic core, near the Outer Rim just as the Republic's authority begins to wane, so while Qui-Gon had been able to assemble a search team to locate the warlord, they were far from efficient. The only thing that was working was the blockade, which was creating space traffic congestion due to heightened security, and the residents were beginning to complain about all this fuss over a single individual. As if things could not get worse, a devastating earthquake rocked one continent of the planet, followed by a powerful hurricane.

So far the blockade was still in place, but now it was a choice between the lives of thousands or the capture of one warlord. Though the Jedi Council will not be pleased, Qui-Gon was going to have to call off the blockade in order to hasten the arrival of supplies. This could mean millions of other lives lost, but that is something to worry about in the future, and Qui-Gon was a man of here and now.

Nonetheless, he was not looking forward to the talk he was about to have with the Council.

_Aw come on, Master! If the Council weren't as stingy as they are, we wouldn't have so many interesting things to complain about!_

He rubbed his eyes again. _You are dead, Xanatos. Leave me be._

But his former padawan's laughter echoed in his mind, ceaselessly, and the more Qui-Gon tried to block it out, the more insistent the sound became.

_Tell me you're proud of me, Master!_

"Master Jinn?" Asked the captain, "Do you have any orders?"

"I need to notify the Jedi Council," Qui-Gon heard himself say without even remembering the decision to speak, "And inform them of what has transpired. This will only take a few minutes."

The captain looked dubious, perhaps because she did not believe that consulting the next action with the council would only take so long. However, she did not remark on it. "This way, please."

He was led out of the rain to the console, where the captain left him to himself. Wet and haggard, he summoned the Council, though only three Masters were present.

"Qui-Gon," Mace nodded at him, "Any updates?"

"I have no located him. There has been a disastrous earthquake. So far the blockade has blocked his escape, but I will need to call it off in order to accelerate supply delivery for the survivors."

The Force must have informed them as much, because none of the three looked surprised by the news.

"Unfortunate, this is," Yoda proclaimed, "However, certain, are you, that this is wise? Save thousands of lives, you may, by removing the blockade, but condemn millions of others, you will, by doing so."

_"Ever notice how majority rules?" _Xanatos observed while chopping vegetables, _"Like, most folks in the galaxy are really dumb, so as a society we're all rather dumb because the majority of people dumb us down."_

_ "Why do you think most of the galaxy is 'dumb'"?_

_ "Look at the Senate. They're all idiots. And guess who voted them into office? The majority."_

_ "They're not _all _bad…"_

_ "Oh come on, Master. You know you agree with me. And what stinks is: if it comes to choosing between smart people and dumb people, we're compelled to save all the dumb people because they'd be larger in number. How's that for evolution?"_

"That would be a future concern," Qui-Gon said. "You said yourself, Master Yoda; the future is always in motion. It would be no more right to sacrifice these thousands to save the lives of millions that may or may not need saving than to sacrifice those millions for these thousands."

Kit Fisto was about to speak, but Yoda cut him off by saying, "Sense, I do, that decided already, you have. Selected, you were, to take this mission, because your judgment has its own wisdom. If escape, the warlord must, than the will of the Force, it is."

Yoda had been saying that ever since Xanatos turned, as if that should comfort him. _Will of the Force. Will of the Force._ Qui-Gon believed in the will of the Force as much as any true Jedi, but that did not make the betrayal any less hurtful. Part of him refused to accept it, no matter how much he meditated and called upon the Force for comfort and guidance. He tried to distract himself by focusing on his missions, but it was difficult when in the past Xanatos had been a strong presence at his side.

"Thank you, Masters."

"May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon," Mace inclined his head, and the transmission was cut.

Qui-Gon sought the captain afterwards.

"Master Jinn?"

"Disassemble the blockade. There is no point having it when we need supplies so desperately."

"Yes, sir."

"Have you contacted for aid?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Do so."

"Yes, sir."

Heading out into the rain, Qui-Gon went to work helping rescue workers hull out survivors. The water made the earth muddy and treacherous, threatening to drown those trapped under the debris. He used his senses to locate life forms, levitate some debris out of the way for the workers, and avoid moving structures that could cause collapses that could kill the victims beneath. Thunder rumbled overhead as lightning flickered in the clouds. At least the storm might prevent the warlord from escaping the planet.

At some point he was informed that the blockade had been removed, but that was blurred in with all the desperate activity around him. There were so many injured, and though supplies and aid were beginning to arrive, there were still so many trapped. Some were already drowned, others suffocated, and still more crushed when their prisons crushed them as the watery mud slid under the foundations, giving way to collapse.

_Isn't this just dandy, Master?_ Xanatos would have said, _Rain and mudslides after an earthquake. All in a day's work, eh?_

"Look out!" Someone yelled, and Qui-Gon felt a ripple in the Force. He jerked his head up to see a flaming aircraft dropping down from the sky like a meteor. Was that a supply ship? Did it run into the warlord?

"Take care of this here!" He yelled to a nearby worker, before springing into a dash. Other workers were already running towards the downed aircraft, but the Jedi was much faster and more sure-footed. The wreck landed right on top of a shattered building just as Qui-Gon arrived. He pulled the workers out of the way.

"Put the fire out! Put the fire out before it spreads!" He heard voices shouting, and indeed the thing was burning, despite the harsh downpour.

Qui-Gon took note of the aircraft's model. It looked like a transport freighter that had arrived two hours ago bearing resources. He could not sense anyone on board, which could mean everyone was killed. At least the freighter landed on debris the rescue workers had already searched, so no one else was killed. Using the Force, he snuffed out parts of the wreck, but it was huge and it would take him time to put it all out.

"Don't let it spread!"

"Get the pumps! Hurry!"

"Go go go!"

Then, in front of his astonished eyes, the flames simply disappeared.

He blinked, wondering if it was some trick of light, that the rain had obscured his view, but something else stood on top of the ruined freighter. Human, female, clad in white and gray, the figure reminded him of priestesses he had seen on one of the non-Republican planets he had been to with Xanatos. She wore a veil that covered her face and robes that resemble what Jedi wore, except as the wind gusted, he saw she had two layers of sleeves, one normal though wide and loose, and another beneath it that stretched out longer than her arm, like scarves. She was crouched as if she had just landed from a long jump, her arms stretched out to balance, and the skirts of her dress flaring out like a flower in bloom.

"Well met, Qui-Gon Jinn," Said the stranger, and she sounded as if she were speaking right next to him even though she was many meters away. Some of it, Qui-Gon realized, was coming from his own head. _A Force-sensitive?_

"And whom do I have the honor of speaking to?" He asked, hand inching toward the lightsaber at his belt. The workers had gone silent and still, staring at her in shock.

She moved with a speed that defied anything Qui-Gon had ever seen, and his hand closed around the lightsaber hilt, but she was only spinning to draw in her sleeves, which somehow rolled under her outer sleeves, as if they never existed. She straightened, standing tall and proper, and folded her hands over each other in front of her, like a regal queen.

"Much time has passed since I last walked among you," Said she, "Perhaps my name means little now. Yet once I was one of your kind, in the darker days of this galaxy. I wandered the same halls, wielded the same blades, uttered the same code. When I left the known worlds, I had left behind a legacy of Chosen Ones who made today possible. They were known to the Force as the Lost Jedi, and I was their teacher."

Qui-Gon had been confounded when she first spoke, but at the term "Lost Jedi", he realized what she was saying.

"Impossible." He shook his head, bewildered, "The Jedi Exile existed four thousand years ago. There is no way she could still be alive."

No one knew what became of the Jedi Exile. The records only indicate that she was responsible for slaying the Sith Triumverate, for establishing stability on Telos, Nar Shaddaa, and Dantooine, after which she left her students, who were part of the Lost Jedi, to rebuild the Jedi Order, in order to pursue darkness in the Unknown Regions. It was unknown whether she was successful, whether she survived and came back, but later records hinted that she likely never returned. Xanatos had always been fascinated by her, because she was directly responsible for saving his homeworld at its darkest.

But this was four thousand years ago!

"Alive, perhaps not," Said the woman who claimed to be the Exile, "But there are other forms of passing besides death, just as there are other forms of living besides life."

Qui-Gon blinked. He could sense the truth in her words, both in her claim that death was not the only end, and in her identity. Somehow, this _is _the Jedi Exile, even though this should be impossible.

_With the Force, impossible, nothing is,_ Yoda always said. Qui-Gon doubted the aged master would predict _this_ turn of events, though.

She was smiling. Qui-Gon knew, even though he could not see her face. Then she walked down the ruined aircraft as if stepping down a flight of stairs, rather than debris. The harsh wind whipped her gown out, as if tensing in anticipation.

"Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon blinked again, noticing something even as questions whirled in his mind. "Why can't I sense you?" He asked.

She smiled. "I am not a creature of the Force any longer."

That did not make any sense at all.

"What are you? What are you doing here? How did you know my name? Why did you come back?"

"Peace," She raised her hand, cutting off his questions, and Qui-Gon suddenly felt like a young initiate rather than the master he had been and the knight he was now. "I will answer your questions in time, but for now, there are lives to be saved."

OoO

When Qui-Gon and the Exile finally withdrew from rescue efforts, the rain had stopped for hours and night had fallen. The warlord was probably long gone now, but Qui-Gon was so weary that he hardly wanted to hear the Exile's answers, let alone track the criminal down. For her part, the Exile seemed hardly human, almost ethereal. He never saw her face, for she kept the veil down at all times, but he could tell she was not tired in the least, and only withdrew because he did.

She helped him brew some hot cha as he changed into drier clothes. Her gown was not even wet. Perhaps four thousand years ago, they had Force techniques for that.

When he sat down at the table, she sat down on the opposite side, hands folded in front of her and head slightly bowed, as if thinking. A silence fell, one that might have felt more awkward to Qui-Gon than to the Exile, but he had to break it somehow.

"What is your name?"

She was silent for a long time. "I had long forgotten."

He hesitated. "What happened to you?" _Did she meet darkness in the Unknown Regions? How was she even alive?_

The Exile leaned back a little. "I was born a Force-sensitive. I was sent to the Jedi and trained as a padawan at the Jedi Enclave at Dantooine." Her voice had a nostalgic quality to it, and she spoke slowly, as if lost in memory. "There I studied under the tutelage of many masters, before the Mandalorian Wars broke out."

Qui-Gon knew this bit of history, at least, but he allowed her to continue without interrupting.

"I was always considered strong, with a great propensity to form deep friendships. Someone once warned me to be mindful of my powers, but I never truly understood what I was supposed to do. At the time, the Mandalorians were crushing the civilizations on the Outer Rim. The Jedi Council forbade us from interfering, but there were many of us who could not stand to watch as lives were lost. We joined the war against orders and fought for the Republic. I became a Knight…and a General."

In the Force, Qui-Gon could almost hear the sound of battle, blasters firing, people screaming, the ground groaning as grenades and mines exploded at people's feet. At the center of it all was a young woman, her face blurry and undefined, but with eyes, such beautiful eyes, sharp and intent, looking around her as if but an observer, even as she issued commands with her hands.

"What is war? War is death. The limits of mortal nature are tested in the heat of battle. How far is one willing to go to survive? To win? I watched my enemies fall. I watched my comrades fall. I watched my fellow Jedi, fellow initiates from the crèche, fellow padawans, fellow knights, _fall._"

The last word carried an ominous ring to it, and Qui-Gon knew she meant falling of a different kind.

"At Malachor V I was compelled to sacrifice millions of my men. I watched them die with the planet. I sensed their deaths in the Force. Each of them, brothers and sisters at arms. Storytellers in the harsh storms, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. I slew those I loved. It would have been kinder had I died with them, perhaps, but the Force is not the only power that guides destinies. I cut myself from it. I deafened and blinded myself to it, so that I would never again have to bear that kind of pain. That kind of…_responsibility._" Qui-Gon felt her eyes turn to him. "Then I returned to the Jedi Council for judgment."

Qui-Gon had read that the Exile unconsciously defended her sanity by cutting herself from the Force, but the emotion simmering in her voice silenced his questions. They could wait until later.

"At the time, I did not understand. The Force had forsaken me, it seemed. Then the Jedi Council, my teachers and colleagues, cast me away. They had forsaken me too. And in the aftermath of the Mandalorian Wars, I saw nothing left for me. All was empty and cold, a void, like the darkness of space. So I wandered alone, trying to find my way, trying to find a purpose, a chance to redeem for the choices I made that had devastated so many. Ten years later, the Force called me back."

_The Sith Triumverate._ Three Sith Lords that emerged after the war: Darth Traya, a former Jedi Master who was cast out of the Order because her former padawan, Revan, had turned to the dark side; Darth Nihilus, Lord of Hunger, and Darth Sion, Lord of Pain, two of her apprentices that turned against her. All three had been powerful Sith, and the Jedi Exile had slain them all, with the help of her Lost Jedi, her disciples that she gathered.

As if aware that Qui-Gon knew this, the Exile did not elaborate on this part of the story.

"Darkness loomed in the galaxy, as it always must from time to time, and I was recalled to life." She paused, as if considering this. "The Forced reached to me and I answered its summons. I did what must be done. I eliminated the darkness. Yet afterwards…there was still nothing for me left. The wars haunted my mind, past friends and family dead. Can you imagine, Master Jinn, what it was like to live among Jedi, to be a Jedi, to love and be loved by Jedi, and have nearly all the Jedi die, slow deaths to the dark side, quick deaths to their schemes, and know that all this time you are dead to them as they are dead to you, for you are the Jedi Exile that they themselves cast out! New friendships, new bonds, cannot replace the old, nor do seeping mortal wounds ever heal. So I left for the Unknown Regions to seek death."

She turned her head away. "I found transcendence instead."

Qui-Gon did not know what that meant, but he could guess. He heard the pain in her voice, an old hurt that had never been healed or comforted. Qui-Gon had been betrayed by his padawan, and that pained him incessantly; the Jedi Exile had been betrayed by her entire Order. Her pain must have been sheer _agony._

"I am not a Jedi," She turned her head back to him. "Nor am I part of this galaxy any longer. However, the time has come for me to collect what was promised yet denied to me." Her words became slightly hard. "You will be the path I take. At dawn, we depart for Coruscant."

Qui-Gon stood. "I am on a mission. I am here to apprehend a warlord that threatens many systems. He leads an army that could devastate billions of lives."

"Your warlord was on the ship," Said the Exile.

Qui-Gon froze, not quite stunned yet, but struck speechless by this news.

"His passing will ensure the disbandment of his army," She continued, "You should receive reports soon, regarding the wreckage.

_How did she…was she responsible—_Qui-Gon thought back to how he first met her. Long flowing sleeves in the rain, the wind about her like it was gathered around her, the flames easing away like an invisible hand had smothered them. _Well met, Qui-Gon Jinn._

_How did she know my name?_

"What are you, exactly?" Qui-Gon asked. "If you are not a creature of the Force, then what are you?"

He felt she was smiling, even though her veil hid her face.

"The Force is but one master among many. Within this galaxy, it reigns supreme. Outside, however, are other powers. After Malachor V, I was able to turn away from the Force, and what is more, it allowed me to go. I am a free entity, unbound by a single power, be it life, death, the Force, or other. I am an equal of planets and stars, the cousin of comets and asteroids. Should the need arise, you may consider me a Celestial."

Qui-Gon had never heard of Celestials, if indeed there was more than one. However, he knew that the Exile was very powerful, for the Force seemed to shudder at the very term, and bow, not quite in reverence, but in respect.

Was she light? Or was she dark? She had helped him save those victims when they were out in the rain. In the records it was stated that the Exile had never fallen, even when all the other Jedi she fought alongside did. Yet…what did she mean by collecting what was promised and denied to her? The Jedi do not collect debt. _But she is not Jedi…_

"Why do you want to go to Coruscant?" He asked at last.

The room seemed to darken, the light flickering as if they were candlelight, and a series of words flashed through his mind. _Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Sidious, Order 66, the Chosen One, the Prophecy, Darth Vader, Ben Kenobi, Train the boy! Tatooine, Naboo, Coruscant, Alderaan, Empire Empire Empire Empire Empire—!_

"Darkness is coming." The Exile's voice sounded melodious, even as it cut through the visions in his head, swirls of colors and noise that he could not even begin to understand. She was standing already, though Qui-Gon did not see her rise, and her back faced him as she slowly left the room. "It waits for a crack in the shields of light. The Force called to me, and I answer its summons. You are a knight who follows its will. Take me to Coruscant, and allow Destiny to make its statement."


	2. The Old Hope

Defying Destiny

2: The Old Hope

"Exile," Qui-Gon beseeched, "How is the Council to meet you if you will not go to them?"

The Exile was marveling at the Room of a Thousand Fountains. She ran her hands in the flowing water and stared at her reflection in the pool. Her veil still covered her face, but she studied her image for a moment in silence, ignoring Qui-Gon.

"Exile,"

"There was a time, you know," She murmured, "When these fountains were silent, in reverence to the Jedi who passed during the purges."

Qui-Gon was at a loss.

"Would you believe it," The Exile continued, "I had never even been in these rooms before."

Qui-Gon looked at her in surprise. Surely, even though she had trained on Dantooine, she had been to Coruscant before?

"If the Council wishes to see me, they can meet me here. I think I will stay and look around." The Exile turned to him. "I know the Council. They would sit in their seats as if a jury. I did not come here to be tried yet again."

An old pain flared, and Qui-Gon found that he understood. She did not want to relive the last time she stood in front of a full Council. Surely, the Jedi Council could treat her as they would a non-Jedi of high esteem, such as the Chancellor, and give her the honor of coming to her instead.

"Very well."

OoO

As Qui-Gon left, the Exile sat down next to one of the fountains and looked at the flora around her. The Force had called to her from beyond the galaxy, and she answered, though she knew not what to do next. Darkness was looming, as it always must from time to time, and such was the natural order of things; the Exile could not guess what she must do about this.

Perhaps, the Force called to her because while she was no longer quite "alive", she was nearing the end of her days, and the Force wanted her to return to it? She may no longer be an entity of the Force, but she was born of it, and perhaps she must die of it as well. Four thousand years is a long time to live, and after so long, death was welcome.

Four thousand years. On one hand, it seemed like such an endless existence. On the other, it had passed by so quickly. Life as a Jedi seemed an eternity ago, but looking at the current knights who wandered around the gardens, some giving her curious glances, she could recall, faintly, the hallways of the Enclave, students browsing the libraries, calling to each other at the windows, studying, eating, learning. The culture here was subtly different, but the clothes, the postures, the overall quality of peace and serenity, remained unchanged from so long ago.

_I can remember…_

She never felt the urge to remember, really. Though her current form allowed her to come to terms with everything that had ever happened to her, the pain had been real in the past, and the memories recalled it with all its freshness. Loneliness, loss, despair, resignation, emptiness—

"Look, maybe it would be better for you. You don't know what might happen in the future. Maybe there would be a galaxy-wide famine."

_Younglings!_ Her lips quirked into a smile. There was nothing like a child to bring life and energy to a place, and though the gardens teemed with life, she found herself rejoicing to hear such bright voices.

"I don't want there to be a galaxy-wide famine." She heard the speaker sigh. "It's fine, really. Master Yoda always said that the Force works in mysterious ways. Maybe I'm not selected because I was simply not destined to be a knight."

"You still have a few months yet. Have you spoken with Master Yoda?"

"What am I supposed to say? He'd just tell me to accept whatever comes. I don't need to hear that from him. I know this already."

The Exile slowly stepped against another fountain to get a view. Three younglings sat along a bench. Their backs were hunched, as if depressed, and two sat on each side of a third and stared at him. One of them was a Mon Calamari girl. The other two were human.

_Well, I'll be,_ Thought the Exile, _But that is Obi-Wan Kenobi._

She had faint impressions of Obi-Wan Kenobi before now. Faint impressions, echoes, leading to a dark future, along with an Anakin Skywalker. She knew he was somehow connected to Qui-Gon Jinn, though not precisely how. Looking at him in the flesh, however, the Exile was able to see everything she had missed before. She saw the little boy's eyes light up when told he still had a chance to find a Master. She saw him training the katas he was taught in preparation for the upcoming competition. She saw Qui-Gon standing in the sidelines as Obi-Wan fought another initiate. Desperation, determination, Qui-Gon shaking his head, murmuring there was too much anger in him, words spoken with a young voice filled with conviction _"I won't turn!"_ Bandomeer's ships where Agricorps was, pirates, Obi-Wan seizing his fear and setting it aside for the betterment of everyone else, offering his life for a master that did not even want him. Finally earning his padawan braid, only to give it up in order to follow the compassion in his heart. Returning to the Jedi with crushed heart after the deaths of his friends. Killing Bruck Chun, killing Xanatos, growth stunted by the stress of keeping his anger repressed, slaying the Sith apprentice, taking a child who usurped his own place into his heart, training him, watching him grow, devoting his life to the Republic, watching the boy he loved turn against him, living in ignominy on the planet of his padawan's childhood, loneliness, exile, death…_light._

_Noble Jedi Master Kenobi,_ The Exile thought, _Had I you by my side during my years of wandering after the war, I should be blessed indeed. Perhaps the darkness would not even touch the heart of the Jedi, with your light and mine. Ah, but such is the folly of time._

She found herself sorry for the child. He would be far happier at Agricorps, and no less great. What the Jedi symbolize, and what the Jedi are, were usually two different things altogether, but as a Celestial, she saw the ideals of a Jedi in practice in this youngster.

Poor poor Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"I trust the Force. It is what's right." Disappointment laced his voice, but the boy still tried his best to sound light. "After all, you wouldn't want a Jedi Knight who isn't worthy. They do great things, and are responsible for so much. I'd love to be one, but that doesn't mean I deserve to."

_Ah, Mical,_ the Exile recalled the young man she left behind, twice. Once, when she left for the Mandalorian Wars, depriving him of a master, and another, when she left for the Unknown Regions, though by then he hardly needed her. She knew he had become a Council Master at some point. Funny, how history seemed to repeat itself, for Obi-Wan Kenobi will also be rejected by his master multiple times before sitting on the Council himself.

"Let's not be so hasty," Said the Mon Calamari, "There is time yet for the future to change."

_Indeed._

"Far from home, you are," Said an old, cracking voice from behind her. The Exile turned to gaze at the esteemed Grand Master Yoda.

"On the contrary," Said the Exile, "I may come from far away, but I have returned to what was my home. If, of course, it still is."

Behind Yoda stood the other Council Masters. She could sense their surprise and wariness, but their features hid them well, and they remained silent, studying her without speaking. The little Grand Master's ears perked up as he waved one of his clawed hands. In his other, he held a cane, which he leaned on.

_Beware Master Yoda's stick,_ came the echo of young initiates and padawans from around her, _Or your shins may protest your lack of caution._

"Home, this is, to all Jedi," Said the master, "And Jedi, you are, Exile."

Touched by his gesture, she nevertheless stated, "Nay, fair Master. I am Jedi no longer, for Jedi are children of the Force, and it has been some time since I answered its call."

"But answer, this time, you have," Yoda pointed out, "For here, you are." He moved forward to look up at her from right in front of her knees, and his ears flattened. "Missed you, the Jedi have. Many entries, Jedi Master Mical wrote. Forsaken Jedi, he called you. Wanted to find you, your disciples did, but too much work to be done, there was. At last, when time came, barred, they were, from following you, by the Force. Much comfort, they would have, to know that you were well."

The last sentence was uttered more as a question, because Yoda did not know what she is now either. It was also a question in regards to what she is doing here. Was she here to seek their help, somehow?

"The Force recalls me to the known regions," Said the Exile, turning around to notice that the three initiates were gone. Perhaps they noticed the masters arriving and got out of the way. "Its purpose remains unspoken. For now, I seek only the shelter of what links me to all of you."

Yoda nodded. "Quiet, the Force is. Waiting, the Force is. Until more answers it deigns to send, your home, the Temple is." He suddenly bowed. "A great honor, it is, to meet you, Jedi Exile. Respected, your deeds are, among this Order."

She smiled, looking up to see the other masters bowing their heads as well. They were feeling awe, she sensed. She was reminded of when she first taught her first disciple, Atton Rand, how to use the Force. He had looked at her with the same kind of awe.

_Did he love me?_

_ He is a fool, and that should answer all your questions. He has nothing to offer one such as you—and even a fool such as Atton is not so ignorant of that fact._

_ Ah, Kreia, _Thought the Exile, _You were right and you were wrong. He did have nothing to offer me, but not because he was a fool. You died believing you leave behind a legacy in me, but all I had been was a ghost, thrice betrayed. The Force could offer me nothing, and even it was not so ignorant of that fact, let alone the ghost of Jaq._

But the past was in the past. She had been loved, she knew, by friends she could not bear to love in return. Atton Rand was just one of them. Just as these Jedi Masters were part of an Order that can no longer accommodate her.

Had she been the person she was before she left for the Unknown Regions, she would have said, "The honor is mine" to the little Jedi Master. Instead, however, she merely inclined her head, a silent dismissal that all of the Jedi saw and understood. As they left, she turned around, eyes seeking the little initiates. It did not take long for her to realize they were no longer here. Obi-Wan's Force presence was inside the temple buildings now.

No hurry. Let the little one wander. She will be here for some time.

OoO

_Meddling old troll,_ Qui-Gon thought vehemently as he walked back to his quarters in a stalk. A headache was blooming in his head, preventing him from releasing his frustration into the Force.

But Force, he _really _did not care at all about picking a padawan. After Xanatos, Qui-Gon was never training another initiate. Ever. Yoda did not seem to understand that, however, and after Qui-Gon gave the briefing when the masters returned from the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Yoda spoke privately to him and mentioned an Obi-Wan Kenobi that he might be interested in. Whoever Obi-Wan Kenobi was.

Tahl was sitting on the floor outside his rooms.

"Hello Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon pulled himself short, blinking at her. Between the Exile and Yoda, he had completely forgotten about her.

"Tahl."

She stood, looking at him intently for a moment. "You're upset."

_How does she do that?_ Force or no Force, Tahl reads him like a book. It was a little uncanny, how this woman knows him so well. True, they were together since the crèche, but still!

"It's nothing. I'm just tired."

"Now you're lying."

"No." Not _really_, anyway. Qui-Gon _was _tired. From the conversation with Yoda.

"What happened, Qui-Gon?"

"What happened?" Where to start? "It's a long story. What is annoying me right now? Yoda wants me to take another padawan. As if the last one turned out so well."

He stepped past her, ignoring the look she gave him.

"Qui-Gon," She began, no doubt spewing again about how Xanatos was not his fault. It _was._ He accepted that. What he was sick of was how everyone kept trying to convince him it was not.

"It's fine, Tahl. I don't want another padawan. I'm not ready."

"Qui-Gon, it's been _years_—"

"Is that supposed to make a difference?"

Tahl fell silent, as he began unpacking. He tossed the datapad onto the coffee table, along with his comm.

"Qui-Gon, you really need to let it go." She sat down. "In the end, we define our own choices. You can't expect to be heard by the deaf and blind."

"I know," He said, if only to end her lecture. She took the hint.

"I heard the warlord was killed."

"Not by me." He paused suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." _The Exile killed the warlord. Without a trial. Along with all the people on the ship. _She was supposed to be of light, but this action went against her character, at least what was portrayed in the records. Perhaps the records were biased. Perhaps she had changed. The pain in his head blossomed even more as he contemplated how convoluted everything was.

Force. Four thousand years ago. Was she a spirit that gained flesh?

"Qui-Gon?" Tahl asked cautiously, "What happened on this mission? You are starting to worry me."

He summoned a smile. "Don't worry about me, Tahl." He hesitated for a moment, "I think…I need a break, regroup myself at the temple, as it were."

She nodded. "I agree."

She allowed him to unpack in silence. It took a few more minutes, as Qui-Gon opened the drawers to store his things. She sat down on the couch, watching him. When he was done, she asked,

"So, how tell me what happened."

The few minutes of silence helped him achieve the calm needed to release his frustration and pain into the Force. He sat down next to her, telling her about the mission, the warlord, tracking him to the planet, the earthquake, and the Exile's arrival.

"Where did she come from?" Tahl asked. "If the ship was a supply ship, it couldn't have come from the Unknown Regions."

"She smothered the flames effortlessly. My guess is that she has other powers we have not seen yet."

"To say the least. I wonder what compelled her to find you. She could easily have invited herself into the Temple without you."

"Not necessarily. She probably needed a way in. Better a single Jedi than face the Council all at once."

"True. But you said that you could feel the truth in the Force. No doubt the rest of us would have felt the same. She would not have needed a way in, especially if she admits to being the Jedi Exile. She came to you for a reason. I can sense it."

Qui-Gon sighed. "I have no idea what she is here for. If she is here for me, I cannot imagine why."

"Oh come," Tahl teased, "You are an interesting character. Perhaps you attracted her attention."

"That would be amusing indeed," Qui-Gon retorted dryly.

Tahl just laughed.

OoO

Obi-Wan struggled to keep his composure.

"See, I told you," Garen slapped him on the shoulder, "Things could change at any time. Look, this is an opportunity."

"It's just an opportunity, Garen," Obi-Wan released a breath, but he could not deny the swell of hope in his heart.

To be a knight was all he ever cared about. Saving lives, making a difference—these were all things he wanted to do for as long as he could remember. He trained hard, studied hard, wrestled with his very nature so that he would be worthy of being chosen, but now, at twelve standard years going on thirteen, no master had wanted him.

Without a master, he would be sent to AgriCorps, to nurture life for the people, they said. He would work on the farm, grow food for the hungry. _That is making a difference._ But it was not the same. Perhaps, if he had wanted to be a farmer, there was nothing wrong with that. However, this still did not change the fact that none of the knights or masters wanted him.

_Timing._ Some said. _The Force's will,_ others said. Obi-Wan merely saw his own failure. He was simply not good enough.

And then Yoda told him that there was another chance. Master Qui-Gon Jinn was here, and he was going to watch the matches. He had not had a padawan in years, and it was high time he found a new one.

Perhaps now was a chance to prove different.

"Look, I'm heading to the training rooms," Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair nervously, "It's next week and I have to be ready."

"You _are _ready, Obi-Wan," Bant placed her flipper-like hand on him, "You know you're the best out of the younglings with the lightsaber."

"Doesn't hurt to practice." Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm going. See you at dinner?"

"Sure. Want a partner?"

Obi-Wan would not refuse, except Garen had a test to study for. "It's fine. Maybe tomorrow."

"Alright."

He hurried through the halls, knowing he should release his anxiety to the Force but feeling too unsettled to make the attempt. The other Jedi paid him little to no heed, immersed in their own business, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck with how little anyone cared. There was Garen and Bant and Reeft, but if he was shipped off to Bandomeer, no one else would miss him. He desperately wished there was some master who would offer to help him, to tutor him, perhaps, or at least explain why it was that no one wanted him so that he could improve, but no one would care enough to help him this way. No one would know the dreams of a youngling had been utterly torn to pieces.

_Don't think about that now!_ He chastised himself, hurrying through the halls. He had to train. He had a master to impress. Focus on that, and he might just become a padawan. He was so distracted with his mental conflict, torn between feeling bereft and alone and determined to focus on the task at hand, that he collided straight into another person.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, blinking up at the veiled woman, whatever species she was, "I'm—I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I was distracted—"

"I can see that, Initiate," She said mildly, cutting him off. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan stammered. Good thing Bruck was not here right now. Bruck Chun would have leaped at the opportunity to belittle him. That was not what he needed now. Especially as in a week's time, he would be fighting Bruck for a chance to be a padawan, since Bruck was also not chosen.

It smarts, how he was in the same position as a bully like Bruck. He thought he would at least be better than that. _Pride!_ Yoda's voice remonstrated, and Obi-Wan winced outwardly. There he was, doing it again, messing things up. This was probably why no one wanted him. _Too much pride. Too strong a temper. Can't do anything right._

"Where are you off to, little one?" Asked the woman, turning so that she would walk alongside him. Obi-Wan stood still for a moment, but as she started the amble, he followed.

"I—I'm going to the training rooms. I am to fight in the match next week, you see, so I'm going there to train my lightsaber skills."

"Peace, young one," She said suddenly, "In your state, you would hurt yourself."

He blinked, then flushed. _Force, I'm messing things up!_ There he was, getting told to calm down by a woman who was not even a Jedi. He could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

She smiled, Obi-Wan was sure, even though he could not even see her face because of the veil. He was not even sure she was human; she had human hands, it seemed, but he did not wish to look rude and study them closely, so he kept his gaze focused on where he hoped her eyes would be.

"I see," She murmured, and they continued to walk, "This must be important to you."

Aware that she might not understand Jedi customs, Obi-Wan took the time to explain, "Well, yes. I really wish to do well. See, I'm turning thirteen in a few months, and there are only so many knights and masters in the Order who were willing to take padawans, and by the time we're thirteen we're too old, so if I don't find a master before then, I'd be sent to Bandomeer to join the Jedi AgriCorps. They're the ones that use the Force to grow food on fertile planets in order to supply more barren planets. It's good, honest work, I mean, the galaxy needs food, but I always wanted to be a Jedi Knight, and next week might be my last chance."

"Why do you want to be a Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan was so anxious, he did not find it suspicious that this woman knew his name. "I'd be trained to do good things. Many good things. Not just one thing, growing plants. I'd be able to do everything, from fighting evil, to healing, to negotiating—so much of the suffering in this galaxy comes from what people _do_, not famine. I mean, it's more likely that people are starving because someone is keeping the food _from _them, not because there is not enough food available. As a Jedi Knight, I'd be able to do something about that." He blushed, suddenly embarrassed that his reasoning sounded so disorganized, and troubling this stranger about his dreams when she was not even a Jedi. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to explain this."

"No," Said she. "You explain yourself very well. For a twelve-year-old, you are very clear of mind. I am surprised no master has taken you yet."

Despite expecting some comment as such, or at least the thought, Obi-Wan found himself pained by the statement. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong." He finally confessed. To this woman who was not even a Jedi. _You're pathetic, Kenobi._

They had arrived at the training salles. There was no one here, for most Jedi were meditating in the gardens or studying. Obi-Wan found himself feeling relieved. He was not sure how he could handle practicing his lightsaber with others around. Then he took a closer look and realized he was wrong. Bruck Chun was there.

Of course he would be there. He had the same stakes Obi-Wan had. And unlike Obi-Wan, he was training with a friend.

They would make fun of Obi-Wan for training alone. Obi-Wan could handle himself, but he really did not want to put up with Bruck's attitude.

"Will you not go in?"

"What? Oh," Obi-Wan worried his lip, "Right. I just wanted to center myself first." He smiled at her, hoping he could convince her to go so she would not see him backing out after all. "Thanks for walking here with me, and talking…to me. I'm sorry for walking into you, again."

He was twelve years old, still short, but it still dismayed him when the woman knelt to be at his level. Like he was a child. He was almost thirteen. He should be a padawan, and yet he was still an initiate. Then all thoughts fled, because she took his arms in her hands, a gentle grip that was motherly and felt like a hug from his crèche master.

"You are an intelligent young man."

He blinked, emotion welling in him and threatening to conjure tears. Yoda always said he was too emotional. _I'm better than that!_ He thought ferociously, ruthlessly pressing them back. He should release it to the Force, but it seemed so hard all of the sudden. _Intelligent. Right. Like that helped me till now._

"I know you believe that Jedi Knights have the most authority, the best _ability_, to do all that you hope to do. Help innocents, settle conflicts, combat menaces." The woman stroked her hand up and down one of his arms soothingly. "However, know this, youngling: what is important is not the title you hold, but how you use it. The Jedi Knight that appeals to you is not the knight itself, but what it embodies. Honor, virtue, compassion, wisdom, courage, and will. You can be a Jedi Knight and be utterly without these traits, like the rogue Jedi who fell to darkness. Just as possible, is possessing all these traits and more, without knighthood."

He was always too emotional, and her words threatened to bring tears to his eyes again. Here was a woman who took the time to say what he needed to hear, even though she was not even a Jedi. She sounded so wise, though, and Obi-Wan was suddenly certain she was no ordinary individual.

"I don't know how," He confessed, wishing desperately that someone would hear, that _she _would hear, whoever this woman was, "I don't know how I can still help people to the—the capacity," He hesitated, wondering if he used the word correctly, "Of a Jedi Knight, if I'm not a Jedi Knight. They're—it's all I've ever known."

"I understand, Obi-Wan." He sensed her smile again. "You have never allowed yourself to consider other possibilities, nor did this Order give you that freedom. The Jedi Knight was what all initiates here strove for, the Jedi Master the ideal, and how were you expected to consider otherwise? There was no way you could have known that a Jedi Knight is little better than any other profession in this galaxy. But, it is so. You are young, and outside the walls of this temple, there is much you do not know. For all their wisdom, there is much your masters do not know as well. In fact," She seemed to smile again, "There are times when the majority is not correct after all, when they are all actually blinded to the truth, and you will find in many cases, the majority is wrong. As in your case."

Feeling confused and unsettled, Obi-Wan could only blink at her. In the training salles, he sensed Bruck's attention turn to him.

The veiled woman stood.

" Take heart, young one," She said, "The answers you seek…may not be the ones you expect."

And then she was walking away, like a wind, or a song, and Obi-Wan felt a lightness in his heart that he hardly recognized anymore.

Whoever she was, she was no ordinary individual. Perhaps…perhaps she was a Jedi as well? He did not sense a Force signature, but that did not mean she did not have one. Maybe…maybe she was a Jedi Master!

_But she did not offer to train me. And she did not suggest that I would ever be trained._ The thought dampened his mood somewhat, but this did not last. The answers he sought may not be the ones he expected? He was intrigued. Maybe there was something on Bandomeer he should do. She had almost implied that a Jedi Knight was not the best he could become.

Obi-Wan glanced at the door to the training rooms, considering Bruck who was just inside, before deciding to go to the gardens instead. There was much he now had to think about.


	3. Competition

Defying Destiny

3: Competition

"Good match."

Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber while Tahl clapped on the sidelines. She had opted for eating, since she did not have a chance to eat breakfast. Mace dabbed at his forehead with his sleeve.

"Another round?" He asked.

"I think this is enough," Qui-Gon replied, "If you want another spar, you should challenge Tahl."

"Not on a full stomach," She declared, while taking another bite.

The three masters froze when a veiled figure passed by the salles, gliding like she was flying. Silence descended as she crossed the hall and disappeared from view, as if taking no notice of them.

"Force," Mace muttered, "This is surreal."

The Exile had slipped into the ranks of the Order seamlessly, due in part to the acceptance of the Council. Though she was independent of the Force, the Force still responded to her words, ringing truths and falsehoods when they were due. This was fortunate, because her story would have been intolerable outrageous otherwise, and even with the cooperation of the Force, her identity had been kept mostly secret. Those who knew did not take extreme efforts to conceal their knowledge, but they did not spread the information either, leading to many puzzled Jedi who were baffled by the woman traversing the temple halls but unwilling to ask questions. For her part, legendary as the Jedi Exile was, her presence invoked a distinctly eerie feeling. She seemed unapproachable, and in fact had the propensity to just disappear and stay unaccounted for, only to materialize as if out of thin air. The veil obscured her face, so seeing to her felt like seeing a blank wall, or a faceless ghost. She _was _very much a ghost, for all the interaction she had with the rest of the Jedi.

"I sense no danger from her," Said the dark-skinned Jedi, "But I feel disturbed whenever I see her. The lack of Force presence, despite what the eyes see, and her lack of decipherable motivation—she makes me uneasy."

"Has she spoken to you since that first day?" Tahl asked Qui-Gon.

"No." Qui-Gon shook his head.

"Does anyone know what she _does _half the day? Some nocturnal Knights say they have seen her at night. Does she not sleep? And I have never seen her eat."

"She is not alive. She does not need to eat."

"Then what _is _she?"

"A Celestial."

" What is a Celestial?"

"I don't know." Qui-Gon frowned. "However, it is surely a powerful entity, to survive for four thousand years. Whatever she is, she is one to be reckoned with."

"Perhaps time will tell," Mace agreed. His sweat had dried, but he dabbed his forehead anyway with his sleeve. "I best get to work on organizing the matches, actually. Three days left." He smirked when he saw Qui-Gon's exasperated expression. "Yoda is forcing you to watch again?"

"I have the utmost respect for Master Yoda. Yet somehow, I have the feeling he does not respect _me._"

"Of course not. To him, we will always be young, ignorant human Jedi initiates that he had to teach how to swing lightsabers in class."

"Well, regardless, I would appreciate if he would stop wasting _both _of our times. I don't know why he insists I watch. We both know that I will just walk out of there without choosing anyone."

Mace wisely kept silent, as did Tahl.

"Well, I'll leave you two," Mace declared.

"I have to return to the Healing Wing," Tahl said to Qui-Gon. "I will see you at dinner?"

"Of course."

As she left, Qui-Gon sighed, wondering how he was ever supposed to get over Xanatos when everyone kept pestering him about it.

OoO

The Room of a Thousand Fountains had become the Exile's frequent haunt. Perhaps it was because as a Jedi, she had never been able to enter the gardens, and part of her had still deeply wanted to. Whatever the reason, she often found herself here, listening to the current Jedi meditate, train, or simply talk to each other. A few dared to approach her, but she had nothing to say to them, and they quickly left her alone.

It has been four days since her arrival at Coruscant, meeting the current Council, and meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi for the first time. She had not seen the boy since then, though she did see Bruck Chun and the Mon Calamari. The first initiate recognized her, though they did not acknowledge each other, and the second initiate gave her an inquisitive look upon seeing her veil, but also did not greet her.

Their distance was fine by her, because after four thousand years, she was not sure what to say to these children. The ease at which she communicated with Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed to fail with everyone else, partially because she was not interested in any of them. True, they would have their own share of suffering when the time came, but none of their personalities resonated with her as much as Kenobi. Kreia would have liked him, she thought. He would not serve her purposes, and he would not share the experiences of being cut off from the Force the way both the Exile and Darth Traya had, but she would certainly admire many aspects of him, the way one would admire a well-made blaster one would never use.

Now she sat once more against a fountain. The gardens were only sparsely populated today, and though the room teemed with life, there was a kind of emptiness with the absence of the Jedi. She could remember the Dantooine Enclave, also filled with vegetation, though overgrown and untended to, and there was a loss, a gaping hole about the place, the shadow of a legacy of a great Order that no longer was.

"They said you returned. I didn't believe it."

She started and stared up in shock. Atton Rand glowed faintly, his aura slightly dimmed due to the brightness of the room. He looked older than she remembered, and was dressed in the Jedi robes he had earned.

She had never taught him how to be a Force Ghost. In fact, she had not known how to be one herself, back before she left for the Unknown Regions.

"You always had the talent of learning the most unexpected skills," She mused out loud.

"Fortunately." He walked past her, facing away. "We wondered what became of you. For thousands of years, you weren't here, and now you are, not dead. We feared something terrible had happened to you. We could not feel your presence at all."

"Not surprising." Not as surprising, at least, as Atton's ghost. "Here I am, however."

The spirit seemed to darken, and she sensed rage building up within him. Rage and hurt.

"You didn't care at all, did you?" He snapped his head around to look at her. "You never even thought about us, while you were out there. We reconvened every year on the day you left us to hold vigil for you, and all this time, we meant _nothing _to you."

"No. I thought of you often."

"Then why did you never come back?"

She stood abruptly. "I never had the opportunity, Atton."

"The _Sith _you didn't."

"No. I did not. Atton, there were times when I wanted to return, but some things need more than the wish to come to pass. I left the galaxy ruled by the Force to go after Revan. To survive out there, I had to break free from the Force. Once that happened, I was no longer part of the Force. This was different from what happened during my first exile. Then, I was still very much an instrument of the Force, though I was blind and deaf to it. Now, I have become something else all together, and it was only the galaxy's discretion that allowed me to return. The Force summoned me for the first time in several thousand years. I could not have returned without that summons."

"Oh really? You were cut off from the Force before. You were not compelled to leave the galaxy altogether."

"I deafened myself to it, but I was still very much its servant and ward." Then, to prove that she is no longer what he thought she was, the Exile laid a hand on the spirit's shoulder.

Atton started, staring down at her hand, a stunned expression crossing his features.

"Atton…you lost me, Atton, as did the rest. The Exile you knew, the teacher, the friend you knew—she is long gone. I carry her memories, and I carry her face, but I do not even remember her name."

"It's—"

"No, Atton." She pressed a finger to his lips. To her, he felt like pressured air, easy to press through, but with enough tangibility to allow her digit to rest against what seemed like a surface. "That is a mortal's name, and mortals cannot live for four thousand years. I cannot claim my name back again."

His fingers closed around her hand.

"I loved you, Atton. All of you. I still do." The Exile allowed him to press her hand to where his heart would have been.

"But not enough." Atton had regained his calm. The sorrow lingered, but the anger had faded away. He had never been able to stay angry at her for long. "Not enough to stay with us. Not enough to let us take care of you."

"No."

A tingle of curiosity echoed through the Force. Someone was here, and she felt his eyes on her. Turning around, she met blue-green eyes.

"Obi-Wan," She called, extending a hand. "Come here. Do not be afraid."

"I am not afraid," The youngster exclaimed, though he was clearly spooked by Atton's ghost. He went closer to her side, looking up at the spirit with wide eyes, before wordlessly turning to the Exile for an explanation.

"This is Atton Rand. Master, I presume?"

Atton looked down at Obi-Wan without replying.

"Master Rand, this is Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"I know who he is," Atton looked a little miffed, "There was much talk of him."

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "You're not…" He trailed off.

"Master Rand has been dead for a long time." The Exile sat down so she was more level with the boy. "Are you frightened?"

"Why would I be afraid of a Jedi Master?"

She smiled. He sounded so young.

Atton made a snorting noise. "Because not all Jedi Masters are 'wise' and 'benign'."

"I don't sense any malice from you."

"I could be repressing it."

"Atton," The Exile broke in, "That is no way to introduce yourself to someone."

"I hope you haven't forgotten how much I _adored _Mical. Unlike you, I spent the last four thousand years in his company."

The Exile turned to see if Obi-Wan was at all startled by the comment, but the boy did not appear to understand.

"Do not mind Atton," She told him good-naturedly, "He is like that sometimes."

"Aren't you supposed to be preparing?" Atton demanded, "You have three days to earn a position as a padawan. What are you doing here?"

Obi-Wan blinked as if struck. Obviously, four thousand years was not long enough for Atton to get over his jealousy and certain level of selfishness.

"An hour of break would not hurt. There is more to a Jedi than his lightsaber skills. Come, sit by me, Initiate."

Obi-Wan did so slowly. "Are you a Jedi Master?" He asked her.

"No," The Exile answered, just as Atton simultaneously said "Yes."

"I'm not going to start." Atton raised his hands and faded away before the Exile could reply.

_He did not like me very much, did he?_ She heard Obi-Wan's thoughts echo faintly in the Force. The boy's shields were good, but the Exile was far stronger than him, and her senses more perceptive.

"Atton never liked children," She said in a thoughtful tone, "I doubt he ever trained any padawan throughout his career."

_I can't have a ghost for a master,_ Obi-Wan's thoughts echoed with a hint of humor. Then, a sense of surprise flashed through him. "How did you know my name?"

"You were the talk of many in the Temple."

"I am?" The boy looked almost horrified. "Oh. But that still doesn't explain how you recognized _me._"

"A lucky guess."

"There's no such thing as luck."

"Spoken like a true Jedi." The Exile studied him. "What were you doing here, child?"

She said this gently, but the boy looked chastised. "Ah, I was meditating…or, I was planning to. I'm not sure if I would end up actually doing it either way…"He seemed to make a decision. "Ever since we last talked, I've been thinking about what you said."

"Do you have doubts about becoming a knight?"

"N—no. Not that. It's just," The boy rubbed the back of his head in a way that would surely earn him some words of reproach if any of his mentors saw him. It showed a distinct lack of control over his anxiety. "I have this feeling…that things wouldn't go well. And…I'm not a master, and I'm not fully trained, but it's very strong, and I can't help but think that it means something. That I won't…that I won't become a padawan after all. And I know that it's not really a bad thing, necessarily, except…"

"You've wanted this your whole life," The Exile finished when the boy trailed off.

"Right," Obi-Wan nodded, jerking his hand down to the other and closing his fingers together to keep from moving. "Sorry, I know you have better things to do."

"Quite the opposite. I was doing nothing at all, especially now that Atton is gone. Things always settle down when he leaves."

The child actually caught the joke, giggling a little. "He sounds like an interesting man."

The Exile nodded, but she knew the subject was veering away from Obi-Wan, and she wanted to steer it back. "If you do not want to go to AgriCorps, young one, what would you prefer, if you do not become a knight?"

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. "I'd still want to help people. I know that for sure. Maybe I'll do what Jedi do, or try to. I'll never be as good, but I'll go around the galaxy and help where I can." He grimaced. "I'll need a lot of credits for that though."

The Exile mused that she had started off poor and looted her way to wealth by traveling around the galaxy helping others.

"So, what do you do? Is this your first visit to the Temple?"

"Yes," The Exile replied avoiding the first question, "I have wanted to visit the Temple since I was a child. I never had the opportunity. How do you like it here?"

"I don't know." Obi-Wan grimaced again. His face was unusually expressive. "It was something else I've been thinking about. I don't really know anything about life outside the Temple. Here there's the Force, and it sounds like that's all there is, but how do normal people live? It must be liberating to be able to feel anger without risking turning dark. I saw some senators yelling at each other the other day, and no one told them to 'control their temper'."

The Exile struggled not to laugh. _What a delightful child! _He was so thoughtful, bright, and with a guilelessness about him that ought to be preserved, not destroyed. It was a wonder no master sought to claim him, but then, it was no wonder, for the Jedi of today focus too much on small things that do not matter, in their attempts to explain what leads their members to fall.

She could not quite keep the mirth out of her voice, however. "Would you let go of the Force for the ability to feel anger without consequences?"

"Oh no. I don't mean that." Obi-Wan shook his head. "I just meant I don't understand what it's like for others."

The Exile rose. She ran her fingers through the little one's short-cropped hair. "Take care, Obi-Wan."

The initiate looked confused, both by the abrupt dismissal and by the affectionate gesture that accompanied it. For her part, the Exile did not bother to explain. She was suddenly struck with a paradigm shift, and needed to speak with the Council quickly, before anything happens next.

OoO

Qui-Gon did not like this.

"We don't know why they want me? They just want me to go to Bandomeer?"

"The Chancellor implied that the details of the mission were of sensitive nature, and best not discussed beforehand." Kit Fisto replied.

"Surely some general summary could be given? Is this a negotiation? Management? Or some kind of threat to the Republic? A Dark Jedi?"

"I would advise caution," Said Mace Windu, "I sense a subtle danger in the Force. You have until after the matches to depart for Bandomeer. The Council will endeavor to discover more details before then."

Qui-Gon groaned. "If you must send me off so soon after my last mission, at least do so in a way that I can _miss _the blasted matches."

A hush suddenly fell. The masters were staring at something behind him. Qui-Gon turned around to face the veiled Exile.

Yoda, who had been listening to the discussion silently and with his eyes closed, abruptly opened them and perked up his ears.

"Honored Exile," He greeted, standing up from his Council seat, "Unexpected, this is."

"We are currently discussing the details of a mission with Master Jinn," Mace began, silently asking what she was doing here without summons or request for an audience.

"Of which you have none, unless my senses fail me," The Exile replied simply, before inclining her head, "Forgive my intrusion, masters. I knew you would convene at this time."

She seemed to look at Qui-Gon for a moment, and abruptly, Qui-Gon felt uneasy.

"Master Jinn," Said Adi Gallia, "That is all for now."

"Remain, he can," Yoda looked a little troubled, approaching the center of the room. "Sense, I do, that what you say will affect him as well."

She hesitated, still looking at him, and Qui-Gon's discomfort grew.

"Very well," The Exile said abruptly, turning to the short master, "I have a request to make. With your Order's permission, as you are currently responsible for him and his welfare, I ask to take Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi from the Jedi to be my student."


	4. Defining Legacies

Defying Destiny

4: Defining Legacies

Garen inched closer to Obi-Wan in the dining hall. "Did you hear? There's some veiled woman having an argument with the Council. They've been at it for an hour."

Obi-Wan, who had been picking at his food because his appetite was poor, looked up at this.

"What were they arguing about?"

"I don't know."

The initiate paused, before asking, "Who is she?"

"I don't know. She's some veiled woman. Arrived here several days ago, no one's really seen that much of her, or talked to her, for that matter."

"I have." He had confided in her, without even knowing who she was. Something about her drew him to her. Obi-Wan briefly wondered if being so open had been as wise as it seemed at the time.

"Really? What did you two talk about?"

"My upcoming match…and…" A ghost. It was only now that Obi-Wan felt the full incredulity of what happened at the fountains. He had been talking to a ghost, who had been dead for how long again? Funny how it all seemed like just another event at the Temple. Perhaps the veiled woman's easy manner had something to do with it.

_Are you frightened?_

No, he was not. He never met a ghost before, or a spirit of any kind, but he was not frightened, nor did he view the situation spectacular at the time.

"And what?"

"Not much, really." A ghost was just a ghost, right? He did not have to tell anyone, and Garen would just think the stress finally went to his head.

"You actually talked to her? Is she human? What species is she? And who is she? What's she doing here?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know. We mostly talked about…" _Ugh, Force, _"Me."

"Typical Kenobi." Chun's voice suddenly cut into the conversation. "Always only thinks of himself."

Before Obi-Wan could retort, someone suddenly entered the cafeteria. It was a Twi'lek Knight. He looked around the room but did not seem to find what he was looking for.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" He called out.

Obi-Wan's stomach plummeted.

_Oh _Force!_ Were they arguing about _me_? _What did he do? He had not broken any rules lately! What kind of trouble was he in? Did the veiled woman notice something and tell Yoda that he did not deserve to participate in the matches?

Bant, who was on his other side, blinked her large eyes at him worriedly.

"Is Initiate Kenobi here?"

Garen nudged him.

"I'm here," He raised his hand.

"Come with me, please," The knight ordered.

Garen gave his arm a squeeze. "Maybe she's a Jedi," He said, "And wants you as her padawan?"

_Wouldn't she come in person then?_

Swallowing the anxiety in his throat and trying to release it into the Force, Obi-Wan managed to retain a partial sense of calm as he moved to join the knight. He tried to determine if he was in trouble from the look on the knight's face, but the Twi'lek looked too impassive.

It took all of Obi-Wan's training, and then some, to stop himself from running away. A Jedi never runs away from problems, after all. He wished the knight would tell him what was going on. Some clue, at least, of what he was being called for.

Maybe it was safe to ask _where _they were going, at least.

"The Council chambers," Said the knight, "The Council wants to see you."

_What?_ What did he do? The young boy frantically searched his memories for anything he could have done. He had trained, he had practiced, he had managed to avoid getting into any fight with Bruck Chun over the last few days since the announcement that Master Qui-Gon Jinn was going to be attending the matches, up till the dining hall—but Obi-Wan did not even retort before the knight arrived so that could not be it. Did he spill any Jedi secrets to the veil woman? Was he not supposed to tell anyone about earning a position as a padawan? Oh _Force! _She told on him! Or she told them, and now they were going to throw him out!

The knight turned to him suddenly, his lips quirked.

"Easy, young one," He stated, "You are not in trouble. I can feel you releasing into the Force like you are panicked."

Obi-Wan blinked. _Oh._ Then what is going on?

There was a padawan guarding the door. She bowed at the knight as he passed and opened the doors for them.

"This ought to be _his _choice, not yours."

"Able to decide wisely, Obi-Wan is not," Yoda sounded more irked than when the Jedi younglings first discovered they were taller than him. "Strong in the Force he is, but untrained and immature, his power is."

"The boy is here. Let us get this over with." A tall man with long hair and a beard strode over to where Obi-Wan stood. "Is this Initiate Kenobi?" He asked the knight.

"The boy knows how to speak," And Obi-Wan turned to the voice of the veiled woman. She stretched out her hand to him in the same invitation as earlier at the fountain. "Come here, Obi-Wan."

All of the Council was in the room, though not all of them seemed involved with whatever debate was occurring. Some of them stood near the windows, others watched from their chairs with slightly bemused expressions, and a few talked to each other as if commenting on the situation.

"Were you eating, young one?" She asked. Obi-Wan flushed. "Ah. Our apologies for interrupting."

"It's alright." He blinked, and waited.

The woman's gaze seemed to shift off him and land on the tall man. "He is here now, Master Jinn. Does seeing him in the flesh give you any insight that would change your mind?"

"Of course not," Said Master Jinn, and Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment of awe. This was the Jedi Master he was fighting for the approval of. He looked every inch the noble Jedi everyone said he was. "We have to question him."

_What? About what?_

"Very eloquently put, Master Jinn," The veiled woman drawled flatly, "I can see you make a fine negotiator."

"Against this plan, the Force is, as am I," Yoda struck his cane on the carpet for emphasis, "Meet him, you can. Speak with him, you can. Befriend him, you can. Your proposal, you cannot."

The veiled woman actually seemed as annoyed as Yoda was. "Master Jinn is not interested. Surely, someone _other _than Kenobi can fulfill your purposes. Besides, how long does a padawan stay with the master? Thirteen years? Must all masters be so picky, as if picking a spouse to wed?"

"Thirteen years," Yoda retorted, his ears up and alert in agitation, "Short for me, shorter for you, 'tis true. Short for them, not so. Long enough for wars to begin and end, it is. Long enough for you, to see the fall of two Sith Empires. Size matters not, length matters not. Timing matters yes, and the time now, the Force demands!"

"The Force does not command me," Said the veiled woman, "And on the point of Obi-Wan, leeway can be given. I happen to know exactly what purpose Obi-Wan serves. So long as the same purpose is served when the time comes, there is no need for him to follow that exact path."

"And what purpose does Initiate Kenobi serve?" Master Windu asked, his face as terrifyingly impassive as the knight's had been earlier. Somehow, Obi-Wan sensed the dark-skinned Jedi was not repressing any amusement whatsoever.

"Telling you would alter it," The woman replied, "But either way, it does not matter. The child is here. Master Jinn?"

When Obi-Wan looked back at him, he saw the man's face darken.

"There is much fear and anger in him," He said quietly.

"Excellent." The veiled woman placed her hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, as the boy struggled to understand that he had just been rejected…_before _the matches even began. "I will take him off your hands then."

"Foolishness, this is!" Yoda exclaimed, "Fear, anger, such are but emotions; emotions Jedi are trained to control. That they exist, does not the Dark Side lead! Blinded, you are!"

"I think I have enough experience in such matters to make the call," Master Jinn retorted with cold tones, "He has traits just like Xanatos."

"He is nothing like Xanatos," The veiled woman said easily, "But I shall not persuade you further, for that is against my interests."

"We have spoken enough of the matter." Master Jinn turned to regard Obi-wan. "There must be a reason he has not been taken sooner. Even if he is now the epitome of a Jedi, I still am not interested in training a padawan. I made that vow years ago. I do not intend to break it. The discussion is closed on my part, and I'll appreciate if we never breach the matter again."

He bowed curtly, before leaving. Yoda shook his head furiously, then released a heavy sigh.

"The Council's decision, it is, but _I _support it not."

"And why is that?" The woman asked.

"Still time, there is." Yoda gestured a claw at Obi-Wan, "A few months remaining, the boy still has. Time to change his mind, Qui-Gon does."

"Ah yes, the match," said the woman, removing her hands to fold them in front of her. "And if Master Jinn still refuses? You cannot claim that my tutelage is _worse _than the AgriCorps."

"Refuse, he will not," Yoda declared vehemently. "Denied, the Force will not be. Follower of its will, Qui-Gon is, though blind, he is, to its intentions at present."

"He was always a bit blind, was he not?" The woman remarked, "And blind he remains, because he never stops to consider. Always the man of the moment, is Qui-Gon Jinn. At the moment, he loves the boy. At another, he loves another. He functions little more than a mindless drone, for the Force to use and discard as needed. Such is the life of Qui-Gon Jinn—the life of a fool, preserved and guarded for as long as he is useful."

"Very low, your opinion is, of Qui-Gon," Yoda observed, "Know you, the pain he suffered at the turning?"

"He suffered the betrayal of one individual. I had the entire Order turn against me," The woman replied calmly. "I did not exile myself the first time, Master Yoda."

A heavy silence fell.

"After my exile," The woman continued, the first hint of temper in her voice, "I trained six members of the Lost Jedi. One was a Jedi Padawan and another was Echani, kept away from the Force before I met her. The rest—a war technician who served with me and hated the Mandalorians as much as anyone did those days; a bounty hunter who lived part of her life as a slave, and part of her life as a bounty hunter on the slums of one of the most corrupted planets on the Outer Rim; and the other two were Sith. I trained them all, regardless of their backgrounds. _They _were the foundations of your current Order."

Obi-Wan stared at her, but she did not look at him. _She trained Sith? _Their current Order was founded on two _Sith?_ What in the galaxy?

"We will wait for the match," She said at last, "If Master Jinn still does not want the boy, then we will offer Obi-Wan the choice."

"Not the match." Yoda waved his hand. "Too soon, it is. Until the boy is of age."

"That is too long," The woman replied, "And that extra time is inconsequential. I will extend until Master Jinn departs for Bandomeer."

"Too soon, still is. Until the boy is of age, then we shall discuss the matter again."

"For what purpose?"

"Question, you should not. Highly respected, you are, Jedi Exile, but one of us, you claim to be no longer. Part of us, young Kenobi is. Lightly let him go, we will not."

_What?_ Obi-Wan blinked. Did Yoda just call her 'Jedi Exile'? There is _another _one?

"I hardly think this is considered _light_."

"Under our jurisdiction, he is. Our decision, it remains, and ours alone."

Master Windu finally interjected, "Surely a little longer would not hurt, Honored Exile."

She did not reply, abruptly heading for the exit to the hall without a backward glance.

_Is she angry?_ Obi-Wan wondered. The masters in the room were silent for a while, all contemplating where she disappeared from view.

"Master Yoda," Master Fisto finally began, "Are you sure it is wise to turn down her offer so quickly? Qui-Gon is clearly adamant about this."

Before Yoda could answer, Master Windu turned to Obi-Wan.

"You are dismissed, Initiate," He said.

Obi-Wan barely remembered to bow to the masters before taking his leave as was proper.

What in the name of the Force just happened?

OoO

_Ridiculous._

Qui-Gon locked the door controls and turned to face the living room. Some holobooks were on the table, along with a few datapads.

_Ridiculous._

As if he had not already given in enough times already. At least he always had the option of refusing at the crucial moment. Yoda never protested before. It was always the same. When he was at the temple to see the matches, Yoda would force him to go, uttering something about how it was the 'will of the Force' Xanatos had turned and that it was also the 'will of the Force' that Qui-Gon find a new padawan, but whenever the younger Jedi declared that he liked none of the students, Yoda had accepted the answer.

The Exile wanted that Kenobi. She can have him. Why was Yoda making such a fuss?

_Ridiculous._

Qui-Gon was pacing his nervous energy away, too disturbed to meditate, when the door comm rang. After checking with the Force to determine that the person standing outside was Mace, Qui-Gon pressed the controls to open the door.

"I swear," He muttered, stepping aside to allow the man to enter, "Master Yoda has gone easily as senile as he is old and as stubborn as he keeps claiming _I _am."

But Mace did not step through the door. "Two of the founders of this order were Sith. Did you know that?"

Qui-Gon froze. "What?"

"That is what the Exile told me," Mace finally stepped in.

Qui-Gon was floored. "But…no one returns when they fall to the Dark Side…"

"I only state what she told us."

After a moment, Qui-Gon sealed the door.

"Are you suggesting that Xanatos can redeem?" He asked in a low voice.

"We do not know the exact circumstances. Perhaps you can ask the Exile to help." Mace sat down on the couch. "I was thinking more along the lines of the initiate, actually."

"Ugh," Qui-Gon groaned in annoyance,

"Qui-Gon, think about this carefully," Mace leaned forward earnestly, "The Jedi Exile wants to claim him. Qui-Gon, do you understand me? The _Jedi Exile._ The woman we've read about in texts during class—the Jedi whose deeds can be felt in the galaxy to this day. You said so yourself; whatever she has become, she has existed for four thousand years. She is a great and powerful entity—and she sees something in this boy."

"Then she can have him. I'm not objecting."

" The question is, should you." Mace leaned back. "I don't know what her motives are, or if she even _has _motives that we can understand, but you are my friend, Qui-Gon, and I don't want this nameless Exile who I only know from history class to take away something that can be very important to you in the future."

Qui-Gon sighed. "How much can it hurt? That is in the future. I value the present. Besides, what difference does it make whether the Kenobi boy gets trained by me or some other Jedi?"

"The Exile is not going to train him as a Jedi. She made that abundantly clear."

…And that was why Yoda was so adamantly against it. Granted, once Obi-Wan is sent to AgriCorps, he would still no longer be part of the temple community, but the aged master seemed to believe with his whole heart that Qui-Gon would change his mind, and that would be enough for him to object to her proposal. In a way, the Exile was threatening to take Obi-Wan from the Jedi forever. Qui-Gon recalled the Exile's lack of presence in the Force and suppressed a shudder. Would the boy become like that? He had such a bright Force presence.

"The truth of the matter is, Qui-Gon, if you do not take Kenobi as your padawan, the Exile can snatch him away anytime. AgriCorps has no chance of withstanding her if they cannot even sense her Force presence." Mace sighed. "I've trained the boy myself, Qui-Gon. He is a good child, with a lot of potential. You do need to move on from Xanatos, and the longer you are without padawan the longer it will take for you to truly heal. It could very well be that Obi-Wan Kenobi ends up being the greatest pride and legacy you leave behind in this galaxy when you join the Force. I know I promised to stay out of it, but I do not want to watch as this stranger, whoever and whatever she is, takes away something that is rightfully yours."

Qui-Gon turned his face away. He did not know what to say.

"At least talk to the boy," Said Mace, "Talk to him. Don't just go to the match; talk to him. Get to know him. There is more to a Jedi than lightsaber skills, after all, and we all have a bit of darkness in us. If the Exile can train a couple of Sith into Jedi Masters who established this Order, surely you can help Obi-Wan overcome his own faults. It is not as if you and I did not share some of his traits when we were his age."

"I did so well with Xanatos," Qui-Gon drawled, "Perhaps the Exile possessed skills in her life that I do not share, but regardless, I am weary and tired and have no wish to go about correcting a padawan for things he should understand already."

"Xanatos was a mistake. That is true. But that doesn't mean you should run away from all padawans now. That doesn't say anything about your ability as a master. In the end we make our own choices, and we are allowed to grow as we get older. And you have. You now know what to look for and what to correct. We all said that Xanatos was going dark because you didn't see his flaws. Now you won't make the same mistakes."

Qui-Gon kept silent. _Should I? _He could not help but hear Mace's words. Was he being too hasty in rejecting a child he only saw for a few seconds?

"And besides, this Kenobi impressed the Exile by talking to her. Maybe he will impress you too."

Qui-Gon paused. "We'll see," He finally replied.

Mace smiled. "That's all I ask."


	5. Questions and Answers

Defying Destiny

5: Questions and Answers

Returning to the dining hall was pure agony.

Between Garen and Bant's sympathetic looks and Chun's taunting, Obi-Wan finally left the hall without finishing his meal. It was humiliating, being called to the Council like that and then getting rejected by Master Jinn. He had no idea what they were arguing about, but he clearly was not going to be a knight at this point.

Struggling with his disappointment, he went to look for the one person he had confided to about his predicament. He first went near the hall where he first bumped into her, before moving to the training salles, and then heading into the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

The so-named Exile was nowhere to be found.

Disheartened, he went back to the initiates' quarters. He was trained to be a Jedi, and even if he was not going to continue this training, he should still be capable of dealing with his own problems by himself. Distracted, he nearly walked into Master Jinn, who looked at him with a startled gaze.

Obi-Wan bowed quickly.

"Initiate Kenobi. Are you alright?"

"…Yes, I am fine, Master Jinn. Thank you."

Again, the man regarded him, almost awkwardly, his face inscrutable.

"I realize I was not very considerate of you earlier. I apologize."

Obi-Wan blinked. The master was apologizing to him? "Oh…"

"The situation with the Council…it is much more complicated than you might realize."

Obi-Wan did not know how to answer that. He barely knew what was going on in the chambers.

With a sigh, the elder Jedi turned. "Come, young one. Walk with me. We did not have the best of introductions. I would like to start properly." He even gave Obi-Wan a smile, one that looked as forced as it was awkward.

Obi-Wan suddenly felt a loosening of nerves. The veiled woman's words resonated in his mind. _The answers you seek…may not be the ones you expect._ What did he have to lose? Master Jinn already saw his fear and anger. Perhaps he had reached the limits of his anxiety and simply could not feel any more.

"It had to do with Xanatos, didn't it?"

The elder Jedi froze.

"She mentioned a Xanatos," Obi-Wan said without thinking better of it, "This Xanatos hurt you, and that is why you don't want another padawan. Was Xanatos your padawan?"

Master Jinn gritted his teeth. "How did you know?"

"I guessed." Obi-Wan shrugged, wondering if he had truly lost his senses, but not quite caring. "Master Yoda said you were blinded, you said you made a vow not to take a padawan years ago, you and that woman both mentioned how I am or am not like Xanatos…it was easy."

This time when the man looked at him, his eyes were appraising.

"You are very perceptive, young one."

Obi-Wan leveled him with a steady stare. "I won't turn." Blinking, he went on, "I won't hurt you like Xanatos did."

Master Jinn turned away. "You don't know that, little one. The future is obscure. You can only vouch for the here and now."

"I know who I want to be," The boy challenged, "And from that I can shape my choices. I might never be a perfect Jedi, but I can decide to strive for it anyway. Who's to say I won't one day make it there?"

From the tilt of his head, Obi-Wan could see a quirk on the man's lips.

"These are naïve words, little initiate. You are forgiven, for your youth, but as a Jedi who has already seen what I have seen…such promises are unreliable. You can no more promise what you will become than direct the flow of weather. It is simply not in our power."

Sensing that this was something that had happened before, perhaps this Xanatos had once promised Master Jinn the same thing and had broken it, Obi-Wan kept his peace. He longed to make the elder Jedi understand, and it filled his ribs like air blown into his lungs, but he repressed the urge, keeping quiet and deferring to Master Jinn's wisdom. Still, the veiled woman once told him something, and he felt he should inform the Jedi Master as well.

"Someone once told me that the majority isn't always right," The child said to the man. "We don't always have to go along a pattern just because everyone else does. Maybe people don't fulfill their promises because no one else does. That doesn't mean they can't."

When the elder Jedi did not reply, Obi-Wan moved so he was directly in front of him.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, I want to be a Jedi Knight to do great things in the galaxy. I felt being a knight is the best way to do so. Recently, however, I came to realize that what good I can do is far more important than being a knight. If it comes to it, I would much rather help people as a non-Jedi, than a Jedi Knight who cannot do anything in order to avoid the Dark Side."

Master Jinn's eyes had gone from a passive gaze to a piercing scrutiny. The transformation was as dramatic as dark to light. Obi-Wan ruthlessly suppressed the feeling of dread, that he was going about this all wrong, that he was ruining even the slightest chance of changing Master Jinn's mind. He pressed on.

"I'll be turning thirteen in a few months. You are my last chance to be a knight. If you feel I cannot serve the galaxy as a knight, that is your decision. I only ask that you give me a chance, if you think I _can._"

The elder Jedi continued to look at Obi-Wan, as if trying to pry deep into his soul. Despite the utterly naked feel, the boy held his gaze, not even blinking. Long seconds passed. He thought he saw visions in the older man's eyes, and flickering of emotions he could not quite interpret. A child, grown to a padawan, grinning boyishly, tall and handsome, looking up with open affection, singing in the bathroom, sparring in the training salles, before suddenly a horrible expression took over his face and made him look crazed, mad with rage, lifting his lightsaber against him—

A loud crash at the ends of the hall broke both Jedi out of their trance. Before Obi-Wan even saw what was going on, Master Jinn had moved toward him, shoving him behind as he turned on his lightsaber with a loud hum even as a bright light blinded them both.

OoO

Atton remained a disembodied voice. She could see him if she really wanted to, but she allowed him to remain invisible, floating around her like an echo that only she could hear. He was angry, as angry as she was frustrated, though for completely opposite reasons.

"It has been four thousand years, Atton," The Exile walked swiftly to the lobby, "As I said before, you have all gone. Must you cling onto the past this way?"

_"We came to _you _to learn." _Atton's voice was laced with enough anger that modern Jedi would fear his turning. _"This child belongs to another. What is it about this one that fascinates you so?"_

"I see all of you in him," She replied flatly, "Though I may be wrong. There is little of _you _in him that I can see. Obi-Wan handles jealousy well."

_"Even when Anakin Skywalker walks into the life of Qui-Gon Jinn?"_

"He took the boy as his own. Would you have trained Mical for me?"

It was a little disheartening, the Exile allowed herself to conclude, that even after all these years she had been unable to help Atton get over his jealousy. First he gets jealous about Mical, and now he is jealous of Obi-Wan when he is not even around to warrant her attention.

"Would you sabotage my efforts, Atton?" She asked, her tones firm.

_"I doubt that would lead anywhere."_

Secure with that knowledge, the Exile allowed herself to be kinder. "You will always be my first padawan, Atton. No one can usurp that. Not even Mical, and certainly not Obi-Wan."

_"Do not patronize me."_

He was gone before she could respond.

She could summon him back. It was within her power as a Celestial, but she had always been more fond of Atton than the rest. Everyone else attached her to something abstract, or observed their distance from her with attention. Visas thought she was the salvation of the galaxy that must be preserved. Mical thought she was the living embodiment of what it means to be a Jedi. Kreia thought of her as a legacy that could reach where the aged master herself could not. Bao-Dur recognized her as a leader and general and kept himself subordinate, while Mira, like Mical, saw her as a Jedi, and understood her less for it. Though his petty jealousies and competition for her attention proved inconvenient at times, Atton was the only person on the Ebon Hawk who sought to be close to her as a person. The others loved the Jedi Exile, but he loved her, her name, her posture when she stood and pondered on where to go next, and he was the only one, in the end, that could have kept the Exile in the known regions when the Sith were slain and she was no longer important to the galaxy. He was not perfect, but he was the only one she could trust to still care for her if she lost all her Jedi abilities.

Modern Jedi would argue that the Force is what they are. The Exile knew best how wrong that would be. Ever since her Exile, the Force was simply something attached to her, a separate ability apart from who she was. It defined her no more than her beauty or skin color. Atton understood that best.

She will let him sulk. He had been around for as long as she had, and against four thousand years, a little brooding is nothing. Besides, she could say no more than what she already told him. Obi-Wan was not a replacement for him. If, even with all the Force at his bidding, Atton refuses to believe that, then the Exile can do nothing.

Now, about Yoda…

She was frustrated, but not enough to actually be angry. The master was working only with what he had. He had two students, one who was hurting from a loss, and another who needed the first and could do a world of good for him. The Force did encourage the pair, but that was not the grand master's only motivation. He, too, saw great things in Obi-Wan, things that most others missed. They focus so much on the fact that the boy had strong passion, a strong sense of anger, that they do not realize that his kindness overwhelms that. In this alone, Yoda proved his wisdom, but the old Jedi was mortal and fallible, and under the grips of the Force. He sees only what the Force allows him to see, sensitive or not, and he interprets within the limitations of his own flaws. The Jedi Exile was a legend to him, almost a myth, long and distant in the four thousand years that stretched far longer than his own eight hundred; he had no reason to favor her, whereas he had seen Qui-Gon Jinn grow from an initiate like Kenobi to the hurting man he is now; had raised him, taught him, acted as mentor, friend, confidante. Attachment or not, no Jedi is immune to bias.

Things had been easy thus far because of Yoda. She mingled among the Jedi like a shadow but no one questioned her, because Yoda clearly saw her for what she was. Everyone had lines to be drawn, however, and Yoda sought to help two of his children at once. She could not blame him.

Though this did not mean that she was willing to give up the child. Obi-Wan was too different from Qui-Gon Jinn to have been a good Jedi because of him. The boy did not need the master, and she did not want him to meet his downfall because of the poor decisions Jinn made. And if Jinn refuses Obi-Wan despite everything, which could very well be the case now that she has interfered with the order of things, Yoda could still attempt to send Obi-Wan to Bandomeer in the effort to reconcile with destiny. The boy could end up in AgriCorps.

Perhaps it was time to allow the child to decide for himself, as she had said in the Council chambers. Obi-Wan could choose whether or not he must remain an insignificant Jedi…or an influential Celestial.

Suddenly, there was a loud burst of noise, and the Force rippled in distress. Then a crowd of Jedi burst from the ends of the hall.

"We don't have time!" One of them was yelling. "We're losing him!"

The crowd of Jedi, perhaps more than a dozen, surrounded a hovering stretcher where "he" apparently was. She could see the stain of blood between the shifting robes. Tuning her senses, she could sense the rapidly ebbing life. This one was about to join the Force any second.

"No, _no_, Padawan!"

"Calm yourself! You're no good to him like this!"

"Padawan, you have to hold on! Stay with me!"

It was no use. The padawan could not even hear his master in this state. Rapidly making her decision, the Exile swept through the crowd.

"Move aside," She ordered, and before anyone could protest, she laid her hand against the boy's throat.

It was a human boy, a fifteen-year-old who looked more like a ten-year-old, since he had yet to reach his growth spurt. He lost a lot of blood from having an artery punctured in his kidney. The first thing to do is stop the blood.

"You are no longer bleeding," She commanded. All at once, she felt the drainage cease.

"Stay in the light." This should keep him from dying during the next step. "Sleep."

They were still moving toward the Healing Wing, but the boy was stabilized. She stopped, allowing the Jedi to move ahead without her. The Master turned to glance wildly back at her, but a turn in the hallway forced him to look away again, and the group disappeared. She followed at a more sedate pace. On her way, she walked past the library just as the librarian, Master Tahl, stepped out to see what the commotion was. The two women exchanged a look, though the Exile's was hidden behind her ever-present veil.

Tahl inclined her head respectfully. "Exile," She greeted.

Mildly surprised, the Exile murmured, "Master Jinn spoke of me."

"I am a close friend of his."

"The Jedi have no attachments."

This was met with silence.

Tahl was an attractive Jedi, though by no means extraordinary. She had handsome features that were well-proportioned, her eyes gleaming with the intelligence not all Jedi shared, and a firm jaw indicating a strong, though steady, temper. It was a shame she would be blinded one day, and that she would die young, but such things were not true losses for a Jedi, if Kreia and Visas were any indication.

"A padawan was injured," The Exile told her, "Fifteen standard years, a wound to the kidney."

Tahl blinked. "Not…"

The Exile hesitated, searching for the answer. "Padawan Yun, I believe."

"Poor child. I hope it isn't serious."

"It is, but he will survive," Said the Exile, turning away. She had nothing more to say to this woman.

She continued to amble toward the healing wing, and Tahl followed. Apparently, the Jedi had nothing better to do, and perhaps this Yun and his master were friends of hers. For a moment, the Exile flashed back to a life long ago, on a different planet with similar halls. There were fewer cases like this, for the Enclave was meant as a training ground, not a base for Jedi Knights, but there were occasionally transmissions from Coruscant, reports of comrades who were injured, orders from the Council as teachers were removed from the staff and replaced by others, and similar fluctuations in the Force as concern and relief melded together. By the time she had finally set foot in Coruscant, the war was drawing to a close, and she was facing the Council for so-called "judgment". On the battlefield there were soldiers who were hurt, but it was somehow not the same as when Jedi were injured, perhaps because the Jedi were more attuned to the Force and therefore resonate stronger when they were in pain.

Tahl was anxious to charge ahead, but kept the same pace as the Exile, for some reason deferring to her presence. The Exile, knowing that there was no reason to hurry, took her time. When they did reach the healing wing, they were just in time to hear the healers declare Padawan Yun stable…and on the way to recovery.

"But you haven't done anything yet…"

"We'll apply some bacta, but something stopped the bleeding," Said the healer, "Whatever it is, we won't question it."

The padawan's master turned around when Tahl came in, but his eyes froze upon the Exile.

"How long until he recovers?"

He was not asking the healers.

"It depends on how the stars align," The Exile replied. "They need to form the Aurebesh before he can awaken."

There was complete silence at this.

"I jest," There was something funny about how none of the Jedi caught that. "He will awaken soon, and you will witness how tall he is capable of being. As for precisely how long, that is hardly important."

"What you did," The Jedi murmured, "Was not possible."

"For a mortal."

"Who are you? What did you do to my padawan?"

He had reason to be a little wary. The Exile suspected that if the Force had not been as calm as it was, the man would have been far more nervous, but at the moment he was only exercising practical caution. He knew she had just done something to his padawan, likely good, but he did not understand it.

"I commanded his bleeding to stop. It is within my power as a Celestial. I did no more than that."

The Jedi accepted this. "Thank you," He murmured, "I do not know who you are, but what you did…I cannot tell you how grateful I am."

It seemed the members of the Jedi were not all equally good at avoiding attachment. The Exile was rather pleased by this observation.

"You care about your padawan." Kavar's face loomed in her mind, along with how he appeared when the Force was sucked out of his body. "Not everyone does."

The child was meant to die, but now his destiny was in her hands, and the Exile could do what she wanted with it.

"He will be a great master one day, Jedi Master," She promised him, and felt the Force click as fate snapped into place. Then, for a good measure, she added, "When darkness comes, he will be among those who prevail."

The man blinked rapidly at her, not certain what happened, but sensing the Force turn to shape the future to fit her words. "You are no mortal."

The Exile did not reply, instead looking over at the padawan. Something caught her eye—a faint discoloration on the boy's neck.

_What happened?_ She asked the Force.

Flashes of images flickered in front of her eyes, but they were all she needed. The master and padawan pair had been forced to stop at a station near Coruscant when they were attacked by a group of bandits, but one of them was no ordinary bandit. _His _blaster bolt, if it could be called that, had gone right through the padawan's lightsaber blade instead of being deflected, piercing the boy's kidney. The discoloration was his imprint.

This was what the Force called her here for. There is an intruder in this galaxy.

She lunged forward, touching the discoloration, in order to identify him, but the flash of image was too blurry to make out his features. Besides, he could hide his appearance and presence, just as she could.

"What is it?" The padawan's master cried.

"No fear," She told him without looking up, "Your padawan is well. You two encountered a dangerous being. You are lucky to have made it here." Or were they? Why would an Umbra pose as a bandit? Not to mention, an Umbra was perfectly capable of taking down a couple of Jedi. They both survived only because the Umbra allowed them to escape.

This was a grave matter.

"Atton, if you can hear me, I need to know what you know of this."

Atton did not respond. She was not certain if it was because he could not or would not.

"Madam?" The healer began, "Is there a problem?"

"Not with your patient," The Exile stepped out, "And not on Coruscant, from what I can sense, but so long as he is here, none of you are safe."

Obi-Wan! She had requested permission to train him in front of the whole Council. The Umbra likely did not know she is here, but if he did, he could request the Force to inform him of her activities, and the Force would be compelled to obey him just as it obeyed her. If it did not, he had other ways, just as she did, of finding out the past. She had to get to the boy and keep him under watch. Even if she could not take him as her student, until this Umbra is taken care of, she must place him under her protection.

Without another word, she darted out of the healing wing, toward the young one's bright presence.


	6. Weaving the Line

Defying Destiny

6: Weaving the Line

When the light dimmed, a shadowy humanoid figure stood at its center. Qui-Gon held his lightsaber before him, trying to make it out, but it was curiously blurry, and he could not perceive its features. The Force was wretched around it, parting to create a void for it, as if it had split into the fabric of the universe and usurped the space. Like the Exile, it wore a veil over its face, but where hers was white, this one's was a deep black. Its form was tall and lithe, but flowing, as if it were made of water. He felt, more then saw, its eyes rake over his form, and then settle at the child behind him.

His first instinct was to push Kenobi, warn the boy to run, but what remained of the Force surged around them and he found his arm pinning the boy to him, using his body as a shield. Kenobi's hands gripped at the folds of his tunic, trying to sneak a look, but Qui-Gon pressed him too tightly for him to move.

"Who are you?" The man called out, "How did you get in here? What do you want?"

There was a sudden rush of air, and then Qui-Gon found himself flying. Kenobi spun away, and the older Jedi had the time to panic, to realize that the boy was in the open, when the ground rose up to meet him and all went still for a moment. When he recovered his air, the shadowy figure had loomed closer. Obi-Wan retreated against the wall, eyes wide as he looked up into the faceless veil.

Darkness clung heavy around them, thick like oil. It seemed to weigh his limbs, his torso, his head, his organs, his bones to the ground. Qui-Gon exerted a mighty effort to grasp at the Force for strength, but it seemed the very energy of the Force had retreated in the way of this figure, this intruder, whatever this thing was. The wraith ate up the song of the Force like acid on paper, and its attention was entirely on the petrified boy.

Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon managed to grip his deactivated lightsaber and flick it on, but he could not wield it. It was as if the universe were slowly crushing its entire weight down on him. He was trapped, immobile, helpless, and though his lungs inflated as it was supposed to, the air was ineffective and brought him no strength. He reached out into the Force again, but it remained elusive.

_Run, Kenobi!_

But the child was frozen, as helpless as he, and the wraith edged closer. Cold, dark ice shot tendrils into the air and raked over the boy, whose Force signature faltered under the onslaught. Qui-Gon tried to get up, but he only dropped the lightsaber, which rolled across the floor, blade still on. The tendrils crawled over his body, and reality seemed to collapse around him. He saw Obi-Wan's small body crushed under a large male togruta, the flashes of pale lightsabers in the darkness, Obi-Wan as a man, a Jedi Knight, standing tall upon a cliff, gazing down, an adolescent boy next to him, his padawan—_So he would be chosen after all?_ Then reality snapped back into place and the wraith was nearly upon the child.

_No!_

A white light shot threw the halls and slammed the wraith out of the way, the two forms crashing into the walls beyond. In the wake of the light, the Force returned as if a hole had been sealed, and Qui-Gon leaped to his feet. With the Force, he summoned his saber to him as he ran to Kenobi, who stumbled to him.

Down the hall, the Exile leaped back, flipping high in the air, and as she went her veil lifted slightly so he could see a bit of chin. She dropped down to the floor in front of the two Jedi, facing away from them and towards the shadow, which seemed to be reforming into the humanoid figure.

_"Umbra,"_ The Exile declared, _"This is not your galaxy to roam."_

The Umbra, whatever it was, hissed like a serpent. Dark shadows crawled across the marble towards her. It stopped as if held back by some invisible barrier.

_"Celestial," _The wraith spoke, _"This is not your galaxy to defend."_

For some reason, the Exile chose to ignore this statement. "Qui-Gon Jinn," She said to him, "Leave Obi-Wan here and get out. Tell no one to come to these halls."

"Why?" Qui-Gon did not know when he reached to hold the boy, but his grip tightened around the young one's arms. Her order did not make any sense. "Why should I leave Kenobi here?"

"He can follow you through the walls. Obi-Wan is safest with me. The Umbra will not be able to hurt him as long as he is within my radius of influence."

"And me?" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "What will happen if I leave?"

"The Umbra is not interested in you."

It was not nearly as comforting as he had hoped.

"You can stay," Said the Exile, "But I prefer if you warn the others to stay clear of this area. Obi-Wan, come here."

Qui-Gon held tight when the child attempted to obey her.

"Master Jinn," The Exile commanded, "You will release Obi-Wan to me. From this day forth, Obi-Wan is under my protection."

The Force cracked painfully, and it resonated through his very bones, his very soul. Qui-Gon released the boy, who walked to her calmly, as if he knew her all his life as opposed to only a few days. In front of them, the Umbra hissed again, the sound resonating as if from many different throats, a chorus of anger and chaos and cacophony. _"I do not accept."_

The Exile suddenly shot forward, a bright beam of light, and this time when she collided into the Umbra, the two smashed through the walls. The entire building shook, and Kenobi staggered back. He turned around to look at Qui-Gon.

"What," The boy rasped, "What just happened?"

"Go," Qui-Gon ordered, "Go get the other masters, Master Yoda, Master Windu. Go!"

He had no idea what he should do once he caught up with the two, but getting the boy out of the way was his first priority. The child took off like an arrow, dashing down the halls. Qui-Gon paused long enough to see the small body disappear before gripping his lightsaber and rushed after the Exile and the wraith.

By the time he reached them, however, it was over. The Umbra was nowhere to be seen, the Force flowed quietly as if it had never been literally eaten away, and the Exile stood with her face away from him, alone in the now dust-covered room, her veil lifted.

"It use to be," She said with her face turned away, "I was the one threatening the Force. There were those that wanted to use me to destroy it all together."

Qui-Gon had no idea what she was talking about, and really did not care. "Is it gone?" He asked, lightsaber still at the ready.

"For now." She reached up to pull her veil down and cover her face. "This galaxy was my home, and more my domain than his. He is no longer on this planet."

"What was that? What is an Umbra?"

"A counterpart to my kind," She replied. "Their purpose is to destroy parts of the universe, which, as with all things, is useful in its place. However, their influence should not stretch here, where the Force has already locked the integrity of this galaxy. If he had not come here, I would never have been called to this place."

Qui-Gon was beginning to understand what was happening.

"What is a Celestial, exactly?" He asked. "If the Umbra is a counterpart to Celestials, and they destroy parts of the universe, do Celestials create them somehow?"

She did not reply immediately. "The universe creates itself. We arrange it. It is always growing, but we smooth it out. We lay out new stars, new planets, and scatter new life across as much as we can. We give new things new purpose, to ensure they keep existing, to ensure they grow. That is our only role, and we balance the Umbra, who curb what we do so that the limits of this realm are never reached—but as I said, this galaxy is already locked and stable. Neither of us should be here."

Qui-Gon felt like her explanation somehow served to confuse him, so he decided to ignore her response for the time being.

"How do we stop them?"

"You will stop them through the Force."

"How?"

She looked at him, or at least turned her face to him. "You will call out to the Force before you perish, and the Force shall summon me. Only I am a match for him in this galaxy, unless Obi-Wan is trained."

Qui-Gon froze at this. "Trained?"

A heavy silence descended. The dust was still puffing in the air. She had disposed of the Umbra quickly, Qui-Gon noted.

"It remains to be seen," The Exile finally said.

OoO

They were arguing.

The Exile stood, calm and collected, and for once it was the Jedi Masters who seemed agitated, restless, uncomfortable. Obi-Wan sat with his friends, swallowing the lump in his throat that refused to go away, and wondered why he felt like the world was spinning around him when everything was so quiet compared to when the Umbra attacked.

"What will happen now?" Bant asked solemnly.

His other friends did not know, and it seemed the Jedi Masters did not know either. Yoda was…unhappy with whatever development there was. From their conversation, it seemed like he was apprenticed to the Exile, but should there not be some kind of ceremony, some kind of acknowledgement? For one thing, Obi-Wan should be aware of when he became apprenticed, and he ought to have had a say—not that he was against the idea, but neither was he entirely for it, given how unhappy everyone seemed about this. The expressions on everyone's faces were consistent with the last time he had been taken to meet the Council, except the Exile was now much less disposed to compromise.

"It is done," She said to Master Yoda, "You argue because the Force is reluctant to give him up, but the Force must obey my will. Until such time as I see fit, Kenobi is mine."

She came to him afterwards and held out a hand for him to take. Obi-Wan was not certain what to do at first, but she was patient, and when he finally took her hand, she led him away from the other Jedi, away from his friends, to the landing pads around the temple that opened to the rest of the metropolis. They stood near the edge in silence, as the ships zoomed overhead and the sunset cast a warm glow across the glittering buildings.

Obi-Wan felt a sort of peace settle over him. He still had no idea what his fate promised to be, but he was suddenly no longer as worried.

"Obi-Wan," The Exile finally spoke, "You will need to stay with me now, until the Umbra leaves this galaxy. He has his sights on you, and you will be vulnerable if away from my side."

The boy blinked at this. "Why is the Umbra interested in me?"

"Because I was."

He blinked again. "Oh."

Another long silence fell.

"What is an Umbra?"

The Exile looked up at the sky, where ships flew in straight lines, zipping through the air. "At the start of the universe, there was nothing, and then, all this space. A growing force sprang to being and began to fill it. First came stars, bright points of light from which other things are born. For a long time, these bodies of the universe were just that, lacking sentience, but as the systems formed and galaxies grew, the entities of the universe grew faster than the universe itself, and as they pressed against the limits, the universe reacted with equal and opposite force. So a negative force was born, and for a time, things were created, things were destroyed, without discrimination.

"But other things were created, often unable to last, but one thing that persevered was life. In galaxies across the universe, in varying degrees, life dotted the surfaces of planets and moons, and with these life forms, a Will began to direct the progress of this realm. As life became more sentient, the consciousness was passed on and manifested into a greater form. For this galaxy, the Will of trillions of life-forms manifested as the Light Side of the Force. For much of the rest of the galaxies, however, this Will fused with stars, and the stars became Celestials, whose primary motive is to ensure things will grow and what grows will remain.

"As always, however, when one force is applied, a counter-force must respond. In this galaxy, that counter-force is the Dark Side—the Sith, the dark Jedi, the corruption of non-sensitive peoples. Among areas with Celestials, however, this manifested as the Umbra—dark shadows in the universe that are void of anything, black holes, so to speak. The wraith you encountered was one such being, who originated from a far off place."

"But," Obi-Wan blinked, "You're not a star, are you? I mean, you were the Exile—you were human."

"I was human," She agreed, and paused heavily, as if contemplating how to explain to him. "Back then, I was a broken woman, unable to keep up with the times. So much of me was lost in war, what was left could not acclimate to the changed decades, the new world that had sprout out of the old. I had belonged to a dead era, and what wandered the galaxy was an echo, a memory, hardly alive. I left behind the home of my childhood to seek death and absolution.

"The world out there…the galaxies beyond this one, they were different. The Force had no say there, and attempted to pull me back. I was its child, and it did not want to let me go. I could deafen myself to it, blind myself to it, but so long as I wandered in its cradle, it could influence me and that which was around me. Out there, it was powerless, and so it reached into my will to pull me back. Like temptation, like a Force suggestion, only stronger because it was the might of the very Force, twisting and manipulating my heart and my thoughts and instincts. _Stay_, it beckoned, _Stay here, stay with me. Do not forsake me._ Stronger than love, stronger than need or instinct, the compulsion to remain was the only thing that made sense. Such a break required a will I should not possess. It took my very life to break free."

Visions flashed before the boy's eyes, blurred, ancient, almost colorless in their memory, that bone-deep weariness of having lived past one's time, and the call, so insistent even the most strong-willed Jedi would have obeyed without thought, even the least Force-sensitive being would have obeyed—_Return. Come home._ It was no easy matter to leave a galaxy—it was not simply flying one's ship far enough into the emptiness of space, but more like crossing from one dimension to another with everything pulling one back, and everything pushing one away. Like repelling magnets, the borders of the galaxy pushed at her, forcing her back, while behind her the galaxy spun and sucked her toward its center, feeding her the plea that if she must die, die at home, join the Force, where she belonged. Breaking out from the Force took everything she had.

"I drifted," The Exile murmured, "Far from the realm that housed me for my entire life. My body decayed and dissipated to nothing, and for the longest time I was nothing. Yet the strength of will it took to break from one's own realm and enter another became a tangible force. An empty star awaited me," She looked down at him, "And I was reborn."

Obi-Wan hesitated, before reaching out to touch her hand. "You don't feel different," He said with the childlike quality only the most innocent possessed. "You don't feel like a star. The Umbra…he felt cold, chilling, and I was…afraid." He should feel frightened, awed, by the idea that the Exile was no mortal after all, that she was…a source of light, fused with a spirit whose body had decayed. A ghost. He shuddered, and wondered what pain she had suffered. The bone-deep weariness was gone now, but he remembered it and it crushed at his heart.

She knelt, and he looked at her veil, Obi-Wan sensed that the reason she felt so normal was because she hid her face. It did not make sense to him, and yet somehow it did, in a way. The Force itself was already a mysterious entity, and the Exile was a being that existed outside of it. She felt like an interruption, now that he knew what to look at. She was different from the Umbra, who had ate away at the Force and caused it to disintegrate around the wraith's form; the Exile was more like an insertion, shoving away the Force to make room for her.

"The Umbra was not invited," She said, "I was. I am here because the Force summoned me. The form you see, the form you feel, is the form the Force gave to me. My body is long gone; my true form is only light and spirit."

Obi-Wan blinked again. "How can you train me?" He asked. "I'm not a star, and you're not a Jedi."

He knew she was smiling, and at some point he was going to have to ask her how he was able to tell if he could not see her face. "I am a Celestial," She said, "I have powers you do not know."

He stepped away from her, suddenly terrified. "I don't want power. I only want…I only want to do good. This…what you say…it sounds too…I don't know." He looked down, struggling not to lose his composure. "I don't want to turn into something…not-human. I don't want to become…something like that." His heart started racing as he saw, in the back of his mind, all of the sudden he was no longer Obi-Wan Kenobi, but something else, someone faceless, in fact an entity with no real body, just a consciousness, floating in the universe. No passion, which befitted a Jedi, but no motive, no virtues, nothing.

_It sounds like death,_ He thought in horror, _She is going to kill me._

There is no death, there is the Force, but the words somehow seemed irrelevant, because if he died this way…the Exile had said that she was not of the Force, which would mean if he joined her…and the Force had been part of his entire being, his entire person. To part with it…

"You are afraid of what you will lose." The Exile's voice was gentle. "Like growing up, like any change and transformation."

His heart pounded in his chest, and he was silent, staring at her white form.

"The Force is but a small power that guides a single galaxy," Said the Exile, "But you are a child, and you are wise to be afraid. Fear not, Obi-Wan Kenobi; I will not impose a change on you without your will, and it is good that you are frightened, for a lesser child would have jumped upon this without question." She rose and reached to touch his shoulder, and he let her, because she was still the kind woman who had talked to him with gentle words and saved him from the wraith.

"For now," She said to him, "I only ask that you stay close. I must hunt the Umbra, and perhaps when you are with me, you will know more for when the time comes to decide.


End file.
